


Recall

by historymiss



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 03:13:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1453321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/historymiss/pseuds/historymiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky has a list, when he comes back to himself. It's something he's been working on- a way of noting down what he remembers and what he doesn't. It's a milestone that he's proud of, in a way. That he can sit here in Steve's goddamn beige apartment that smells like dust and laundry and undisturbed air (he doesn't spend enough time here for it to be lived in) and say, "Who died?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recall

Bucky has a list, when he comes back to himself. It's something he's been working on- a way of noting down what he remembers and what he doesn't. It's a milestone that he's proud of, in a way. That he can sit here in Steve's goddamn beige apartment that smells like dust and laundry and undisturbed air (he doesn't spend enough time here for it to be lived in) and say, "Who died?"

Steve's jaw twitches, the way it always does when they have a conversation he doesn't want. (Steve hates talking about: the future, girls, money (his own), and Steve)

"Come on, it's been seventy years." Bucky tries to look Steve in the eye- really tries, this time, but he can't. He's not sure he'll ever be able to. "Don't tell me Dugan's still knocking around."

"He's dead." Steve says, eventually, in a voice that carries the rasp of thinking better of what he's saying. "Falsworth, too. I went to the funeral earlier this year. Peggy could walk, back then."

He smiles a little at the memory, though it's mostly without humour.

"Get outta here." Bucky deliberately plays up the drawl, because it makes Steve relax, because it makes him feel a little more like he belong, and because playing a role is easy. "Peggy's still alive?"

"She'll be the last of us to go, I think." Steve sounds oddly proud. "She outlasted all of them."

It lies between them, unspoken.

_Except us._

"Gabe?"

Bucky recalls Gabe as a laugh and the smell of petrol, broken German and French, a fondness for those dumb comics they printed about Steve. 

"Died a few years back. His nephew- Eli- sent me some of his photos when I came out of the ice. A lot of the families sent me things." Steve pauses on the edge of an uncomfortable memory. "They don't feel connected in the same way, I guess. I tell them it's bull, but what can I do? I don't wanna be rude."

Bucky nods, storing this away. Something's tickling at the edge of his concentration, and it's getting difficult to concentrate.

"Morita's family sent me a book he wrote. Him and Dugan, actually- they both wrote memoirs." Steve gives a genuine smile at this. "Dugan's is funnier, but Jim's more accurate. He wrote more about you."

Is it the clock? This place seems to be made for measuring time, that incessant tick, tick- which name is he forgetting? Bucky frowns.

"Dernier?"

"KIA." The acronym clicks along with the clock. "Germany, I think. Damn shame." He eyes Bucky. "There's a grave. I visited it- you can too, if you'd like."

Bucky gives him a flat look, because the Winter Soldier at a war graveyard would be tasteless even by standards of a guy who wears spangled tights. The names- the stories- are memorial enough for him. That he can recall them, and that they'd mean something, is a minor miracle in itself.

The name of Howard Stark, of course, remains unspoken. They both know what happened to him.


End file.
